


After Practice Antics

by DeRez



Category: Hockey RPF
Genre: Boston Bruins, Fluff, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-29
Updated: 2013-05-29
Packaged: 2017-12-13 07:57:16
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,142
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/821873
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DeRez/pseuds/DeRez
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This was inspired by a picture of them at practice. After practice, Brad and Tyler fool around on the ice, and the teasing takes a new turn.</p>
            </blockquote>





	After Practice Antics

**Author's Note:**

> You can find the picture I based this off of [here (credit to nothinglike——us on tumblr) ](http://25.media.tumblr.com/072b1043f7479428d6ce1182690bdc8a/tumblr_mljav84CBz1s5o8qlo1_500.jpg)
> 
> So yeah, this fic is pretty silly and ridiculous and totally made up. After pregame skates, Brad usually throws the puck from the bench and Seguin tries to bat it in from behind the net- that's where I got that from. 
> 
> But yeah, this is completely ridiculous and fluffy and just plain silly. Sorry XD

Practice was over, for the most part. A couple of the guys decided to stay on the ice for a little extra work on their own, or just for the hell of it in Brad and Tyler’s case. They sometimes liked to fool around after practice, just to cool off. 

Brad threw the puck across the ice, a perfect lob that Tyler swung at with his stick, and sending the puck flying into the corner, completely missing the net. 

“Come on, Marchy, I know you can throw it better than that!” Tyler called, standing on the other side of the ice. 

“Are you kidding? That was perfect, asshole!” Brad shouted, and then grabbed another puck from the bench. He smirked, tossing it up and down in his gloved hand a couple of times. Well, Tyler had asked for it. He brought his arm back and sent it flying towards Tyler, a line drive. 

Which hit him right in the gut, and he let out an “oof” of surprise. Brad let out a cackle, leaning over and holding his stomach. 

Tyler cursed, “What the hell, Marchy!” He dropped his arms and skated over towards him, “Since when did you have a fucking pitcher’s arm!” He scowled. 

Brad smirked, grabbed another puck and threw it at him again. “You asked for it! That lob was perfect, you just suck at batting,” he said, and watched the second puck hit Tyler in the shoulder. 

“That’s it, you little fucker,” Tyler said, and he sped up towards him.

Brad grinned and jumped back onto the ice, deking around Tyler in the opposite direction, “Off your game, eh, Segs?” He teased, and quickly skated down the ice where Jags, Pie, and Thorty were firing off shots at Dobby. As Brad skated behind the net, he grabbed a puck with his stick and tossed it up into his hand. 

“What are you two, ten?” Thorty called, amusement in his voice, “You guys can clean up, then!” he added, because he and the others were making their way off the ice by now.

Brad ignored him, and as he rounded the net and saw Tyler coming at him with speed, he threw the puck at him yet again, though this time Tyler dodged- finally. 

Brad’s grin faltered, “Shit!” he yelped, and he took off skating, Tyler streaking after him. Now he was in trouble- Tyler was definitely faster than him because, fuck, he had longer legs, okay. It wasn’t _fair._

Brad glanced over his shoulder, and fuck! He was right there- he tried to go for another deke but Tyler managed to hook an arm around him with a, “Not this time, you little shit!” and before they knew it, they slammed into the boards and collapsed onto the ice in a heap. 

Tyler pushed himself to his skates with a laugh, “Pay back is a bitch, Marchy,” he teased, because Brad had definitely taken the brunt of the hit into the boards. 

Brad got to his skates too, rolling his shoulder and wincing a bit, but he shook his head and smirked, “You kidding? That hit was weak,” he said, and he gave Tyler a small shove.

Tyler scoffed, “Says the shorty who just winced, aw, did you get a boo-boo?” He cooed, getting up into Brad’s face, “Do you need a kiss to make it all better?” He was using the best baby voice he could manage, the one he usually used with Marshall. 

Brad gave him a smirk, “Yeah, a kiss would definitely make it all better,” he said, and he watched Tyler’s eyebrows shoot up in surprise, because usually Marchy just flipped him off and skated away. 

“Sucks we have visors in the way, then,” Tyler found his voice, and for some reason his heart was beating faster.

“Helmets are removable, genius,” Brad quickly retorted, suddenly unable to meet Tyler’s eyes, and wow, where was this coming from? This was unchartered territory for them, because yeah, they teased and flirted shamelessly… but it never really amounted to anything. But for some reason, Brad just… he wanted to just see if it was possible. 

It was a little like teasing the person you had a crush on when you were younger on the playground, getting them to chase you so their attention was only on you. 

Brad heard a snap, and fuck, Tyler unsnapped the strap. He was taking his helmet off. He heard a thud on the ice where the equipment landed. “Where does it hurt?” Tyler asked, his voice somewhat off, somewhat… nervous?

And fuck, he definitely was not going to say his shoulder. “I think I cut my lip,” he found himself saying, and yeah right, it was obvious he hadn’t. But he suddenly felt Tyler’s hands at the chin strap of his helmet, and the pop of the button breaking open. Before he knew it, Tyler had his helmet off and was leaning in. 

Their lips met, and shit, how could something so simple feel so fucking great?

It was a quick thing, because Tyler pulled away in the slightest to ask, “Which lip?” 

And what? Brad’s mind was everywhere at once, and when he finally registered what Tyler had asked, he gave a small smirk, elated, “Bottom,” and just like that, Tyler’s lips were back on his. Only this time he definitely pulled his bottom lip into his mouth, sucking on it gently as if he’d actually hurt it. Which, fuck, this was unreal. Tyler, being the prodigy at kissing that he was supposedly known to be, abandoned his lip and instead deepened the kiss with his tongue, working his way into Brad’s mouth which he definitely didn’t mind. Fuck, making out with Tyler was amazing. Why hadn't he thought of this before? 

As quick as it had begun, Tyler pulled away, needing to catch his breath as he leaned his forehead against Brad’s. “Well, that was… that was fucking great,” he said, “Still hurt?” he teased. 

“If I told you my dick hurt, would you kiss that to make it better, too?” Brad found himself asking with a small laugh. Tyler hit him upside the head, and Brad let out a small 'ow.' Tyler said nothing and instead bent down to pick up their helmets. 

“Shit, was that a _yes?_ You didn’t exactly say no,” Brad grinned, unable to help it. When Tyler leaned back up and shoved his helmet back at him, he noticed the taller player was a little red in the face. And his grin grew, “Holy shit! That _is_ a yes! It definitely hurts, can definitely use a little TLC,” he continued. 

“You’re ridiculous… keep this up and it definitely _won’t_ be,” Tyler rolled his eyes, but he was grinning-holding back a laugh- so Brad counted that as a win and a promise for more later


End file.
